


breathe.

by DecayingLiberty



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Barricade, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingLiberty/pseuds/DecayingLiberty
Summary: Around Courfeyrac, Marius breathed easily.





	breathe.

_Around Courfeyrac, Marius breathed easily._

The easiness leaves him when he returns to his grandfather and Marius’ chest tightens and clenches around his heart uncomfortably. It’s okay, though, because this is a new life. A new beginning.

But more often than not, it doesn’t feel like a fresh new beginning but an ugly end. A chapter of his life was ripped from his still wavering hands, leaving behind raw, ragged edges and an open wound. He’s bleeding out and the pain fills his lungs until he can’t breathe and the only sound that spills from his lips is a scream. Cosette holds him through the nights in which sleeps escapes him, stays awake with him until he’s too tired to remember. She eases the weight on his chest but not like Courfeyrac did. Never like Courfeyrac.

There are times, at which he feels like suffocating, times where everything is too much and his grandfather’s voice and Cosette’s laugh are too loud in his ears. His cravat sits too tightly around his neck like a noose and he thinks that if he tugs hard enough he could put an end to it.

He excuses himself from the dining room and leaves for the door. The cravat is crunched up in his now shaking hand and his vision is blurry from unshed tears. He angrily wipes his face because he’s a husband now and he can’t be seen crying.

“Marius, what are you doing?”

He looks up at her, and her eyes are wide with worry and confusion, and he is embarassed, standing there in the entrance hall with a white knuckled grip on the door handle, hatless and barenecked.

“I. I don’t know,” Marius says and he really doesn’t. He feels lost.

Cosette sweeps him up in an embrace and her dress is made of soft fabric and her perfume smells familiar and sweet and Marius almost cries right then and there if he has not remembered that his grandfather is still in the dining room.

“Come,” Cosette says and he follows her lead to their bedroom. She sits him down on the bed, takes his face into her delicate hands and wipes away the tears which have fallen from his eyes, but all he can manage is a warped, pained smile for her efforts.

She takes the hand that still clutches the cravat and softly pries his fingers apart, yet it does nothing and only makes him cling tighter to it.

“You need to let go,” she says.

“I can’t,” he answers.

His fingers won’t obey him and they hurt from holding on too tight but he can’t let go because if he does, it feels like betrayal.

Cosette smiles sadly at him and the guilt doubles because she is wonderful and patient and yet all he can offer her in return is grief.

“I want to return it,” he says, “to — a dear friend.”

The name hangs like a sword in the room, ready to cut through the air to deliver a final strike but it doesn’t and Marius feels its presence expanding and taking all the air with it. He is suffocating again but Cosette is there and she holds him and she eases the weight on his heart but not like Courfeyrac did. Never like Courfeyrac.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say ["Hello!"](https://decayingliberty.tumblr.com/ask) on my [tumblr!](https://decayingliberty.tumblr.com/)


End file.
